


chimera

by laallomri



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fake Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, I've seen a ton of fake dating fics but they're usually m/f, Pining, alyanette - Freeform, so here's a nice gay fake dating fic for ya, wlwoc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-01-05 00:37:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12179574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laallomri/pseuds/laallomri
Summary: “Oh. My.God!” Chloé shouts. “Of course the two biggest losers at this school would be dating!”Marinette’s eyes widen. She looks at Alya, panicked, hoping she’d think of a reasonable excuse for why they were together in a tiny closet, an excuse other thanI’m Ladybug and she was helping me feed my kwamioryes Chloé wearedating, because as much as Marinette would love for that second excuse to be true, she knows it isn’t, and that is a dangerous path to walk.Alya gives her a long look, expression strangely unreadable. Then she turns to Chloé, slinging an arm around Marinette’s shoulders in the same motion.“Damn right we are,” she says, then winks and kisses Marinette’s cheek.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ML tumblr: laallomri
> 
> feel free to bother me about fics, talk about the show, whatever you like

It starts like this: brown skin glowing in the sun and making Marinette’s heart stop when they sit in her room after school to work on homework, wavy hair that makes her shiver when it brushes her skin, big hands that make her stomach clench whenever she gives her a playful punch or a reassuring pat.

It starts like this: listening with a smile as she speaks to her maman in Antillean Creole, trying to pick up words and phrases herself and not caring about her accent because it makes her laugh, wondering if their children would be extra smart since they’d hear three languages at home.

(and then immediately blushing, because they are seventeen and in lycée and Alya doesn’t like her, not like that, not when she’s smart and motivated and the epitome of the intrepid reporter, not when she’s funny and supportive and so stunning Marinette feels like she can’t breathe sometimes, not when she’s so fully, completely Alya and Marinette is just barely Marinette most days)

It starts like this: rescuing her from a lunchtime akuma attack and carrying her back to the school afterward to they won’t be late, finding a janitor’s closet where she can de-transform and feed Tikki during the few minutes they have before class starts again, ushering Alya into the closet with her because she’s out of cookies and ever since Alya found out Marinette is Ladybug she’s been carrying multiple packages of cookies around, just in case.

(she’s such a good friend, so good it makes Marinette feel like she might explode, though she still doesn’t know if it’s from the fierce delight of knowing that she cares or from the sharp pain of knowing that this care is platonic)

It starts like this: Tikki fed and hidden away in her purse, Marinette blushing as Alya gushes about how awesome she was, the two of them walking out of the closet at the same time—

—and right into a crowd of students waiting in the hallway to re-enter Madame Ouali’s classroom.

Their classmates stare. They stare back. Marinette’s pale skin is pink and Alya’s mane of hair is disheveled and Chloé Bourgeois’s loud voice is cackling.

“Oh. My. _God_!” she shouts. “Of course the two biggest losers at this school would be dating!”

Marinette’s eyes widen. She looks at Alya, panicked, hoping she’d think of a reasonable excuse for why they were together in a tiny closet, an excuse other than _I’m Ladybug and she was helping me feed my kwami_ or yes Chloé we are _dating_ , because as much as Marinette would love for that second excuse to be true, she knows it isn’t, and that is a dangerous path to walk.

Alya gives her a long look, expression strangely unreadable. Then she turns to Chloé, slinging an arm around Marinette’s shoulders in the same motion.

“Damn right we are,” she says, then winks and kisses Marinette’s cheek.

It starts like this: Nino whoops, Adrien gives them a wide grin and a thumbs up, the rest of their classmates run through variations of “aw, cute!” and “we were wondering how long it’d take,” Alya’s arm is still warm and comforting around her shoulders, Marinette’s cheek is tingling, and she is totally, utterly screwed.

.^.

The rest of the school day is torture. Nino and Adrien dub them “Alyanette” (“or Alyabug,” Nino whispers, looking round to make sure no one else hears). Rose and Juleka ask if they can double date sometime. Alix collects on a bet with Kim (“ha! Told you those nerds would get together before the end of the year!”).

And Alya doesn’t look at her.

Why? She’s the one who went along with Chloe’s assumption. Had she meant it as a joke? Maybe she’d thought people wouldn’t take it seriously?

Marinette chews her pencil and tries to pay attention to the lecture and pretends that she doesn’t notice the way Alya’s leg is shaking under the table, the way it does when she’s restless or anxious.

After the last bell rings they go outside to wait with Adrien for the Gorilla to pick him up. Those few minutes somehow last longer than the half day of school Marinette had just suffered through; it’s horrible to hear Nino congratulate them one more time and Adrien tell them they make a nice couple when none of it is real.

Eventually the Gorilla arrives. Adrien leaves, Nino walks off with a wave, and Alya and Marinette are left alone by the stairs in front of the school.

There is an awkward silence. Marinette’s gut clenches. Since when do she and Alya have awkward silences?

“I—” Alya starts.

“So—” Marinette says.

They stop.

“No, you go—”

“Sorry, you can—”

They stop again. Marinette looks down at her feet, which are pointed inward in her discomfort. There is another long moment of silence, and then Alya sighs.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shouldn’t have said we’re dating. Chloé said it first and I thought it’d be an okay excuse but obviously you’re not cool with it and I…” She shifts her weight and crosses her arms nervously. “I clearly wasn’t thinking straight.”

As if on cue, the part of Marinette’s brain that has been too influenced by Chat Noir activates.

“Well,” she says, with a tiny smile, “it’s not your fault. It’s impossible for either of us to ever think _straight_.”

Alya blinks at her, hazel eyes wide behind her glasses. For a terrible moment Marinette thinks she doesn’t get it, or that she thinks it’s dumb, or the wrong time for a joke, but then she bursts out laughing, almost doubling over. The weirdness of the day and relief over Alya’s reaction catch up to Marinette, and she giggles, eventually giving way to a full-bellied laugh of her own.

“God,” Alya says finally, when she can speak again. “I love you, girl.”

Marinette turns pink. Alya sits on the steps and pats the concrete beside her, indicating for Marinette to sit too.

“All right,” she says. “How are we gonna do this? Do you want to stage a breakup?”

Marinette clasps her hands in her lap and tries to ignore how much the prospect of even fake breaking up a fake relationship with Alya makes her feel sick. “N-No. I mean—I feel like it would be odd if we got together and then immediately broke up. Especially if we’re still best friends afterward.”

Alya hums in agreement. “So you wanna keep this up?”

 _Don’t sound too eager_. “Sure,” Marinette says, as casually as she can manage. “It’ll probably be easier this way. There’ll be less of a need for me to come up with different excuses for missing stuff due to patrol or akuma attacks.” She peeks at Alya through her bangs. “Is that okay?”

Alya nods. “Yeah, girl, I’m cool with that.” She leans over and nudges Marinette’s shoulder with her own, grinning. “I can’t believe I’m dating a superhero. My wildest dreams are finally coming true.”

Surely it was illegal for her to just _say_ stuff like that, off the top of her head like it was nothing, like she really had dreamt about dating her and isn’t just making it up to fill out their story.

Marinette covers the butterflies fluttering in her stomach by nudging her back. “Wow, rude. Are you just dating me for the media attention?”

Alya gasps theatrically. “Of course not!” she says, putting a hand to her heart. “How could you even suggest such a thing! My interest in you is based solely in the opportunity to get free, one-of-a-kind, hand-designed clothes.”

Marinette clucks her tongue. “My lover is so mercenary,” she laments, with a long sigh. “She returns my selfless, unconditional love with materialistic words of profit and gain.” She presses the back of her hand to her forehead and tilts her back dramatically to look up at the grey sky. “Love based in greed shall surely die out quickly, like a flickering flame in the winter wind.”

Alya snickers. “Okay, Shakespeare,” she says.

“Hey,” Marinette says, “you’ve known me for almost three years now. You should have guessed I went through a poetry phase.”

“Did you write angsty poems about how no one understood you?”

“Oh, dozens.”

Alya snickers again and stands, holding out her hand. Marinette takes it and gets up too, relishing the warmth of Alya’s grasp.

Alya does not let go.

“Remind me,” she asks, looking down at Marinette’s hand, “how does Chat Noir do it again?”

Marinette’s brow crinkles. “What?”

“You know,” Alya says, with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. She brings their clasped hands to her lips, turns Marinette’s over, and kisses the back of it.

Marinette watches, her eyes wide and her heart hammering. The feel of Alya’s lips burns into her skin, similar to when she had kissed her cheek earlier but somehow ten times more intense.

“Until tomorrow, My Lady,” Alya murmurs against her skin, looking at her through her lashes.

Is this a dream? Surely this is a dream. Marinette is going to wake up to the blare of her alarm and be hugely relieved and hugely disappointed at the same time.

(It wouldn’t be the first time she’s dreamt of Alya and her, like this.)

She is so convinced of the unreality of the situation that it’s almost a shock when, instead of an alarm blaring, Alya just grins and lifts her lips.

“Do you think Chat Noir would mind me stealing that from him?”

Marinette feels a little faint. “Um—I mean—it was always—when I came out to him last year he assured me that his affection for me is platonic so I think he’d be okay with it—not that you don’t mean it platonically too, of course—though I guess that makes it more okay for you to use it then—’cause it’s just plantoic—plantonic— _platonic_ —”

Alya laughs and lets go of her hand. The relief and disappointment Marinette had expected upon waking washes over her now, leaving her hot and cold and longing. 

“You’re adorable, girl,” Alya says. “See you tomorrow? I’ll text you later.”

“Y-Yeah,” Marinette stammers, as Alya walks off. “Tomorrow.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for the comments, kudos, likes/reblogs on tumblr, etc.! I’m sorry I don’t respond to comments (I’m in my last year of undergrad so life is Very Busy) but I appreciate every single one of you and I’m glad you all are enjoying this fic!
> 
> this chapter features a bit of wingman!nino from my other ML fic (though this is not related to the other; they are two different storylines/AUs) so if you like how ridiculous he is here feel free to go read the other one (wink wink)
> 
> also just so people don't think it's a typo: manman is Antillean Creole for mom. or so says the dictionary I found. if you know Antillean Creole and that's wrong please let me know!
> 
> ML tumblr: laallomri

The next morning is one of the rare ones where Marinette is the first of the four to arrive. When Nino and Adrien show up she claims it’s because there was a particularly order at the bakery that morning and she had woken up extra early to help, but Tikki is fully aware that it’s because Marinette had stayed up until two screaming into her pillow and sighing at the ceiling in turns, then woken up with a jolt at exactly six AM and said “I’m sort of dating Alya” in a voice that made the kwami want to giggle and sigh sympathetically at the same time.  
  
They wait outside the school for Alya, who doesn’t arrive until ten minutes before their first class.  
  
“The twins had a meltdown and manman needed my help calming them down,” she offers as explanation as the others say good morning. “Morning, everyone.” She leans over and kisses Marinette’s cheek. “Morning, babe.”  
  
Marinette turns as red as Tikki. “M-M-Morning,” she stammers, hating the way her stomach swoops and resisting the urge to touch the spot on her cheek where Alya had kissed it.  
  
Nino watches them with the sort of expression one would expect of a proud parent. “I can’t believe this,” he says. “My OTP is finally happening.” He looks at Adrien, taking both his hands in his own and clutching them as if he too is a proud parent. “We dreamed so long for this day, and it’s finally here.”  
  
“ _You_ dreamed for this day,” Adrien corrects, tugging his hands out from Nino’s. “Don’t drag me into your weird shipping obsession.”  
  
“Hey!” Nino frowns. “You support Alyabuginette as much as I do!”  
  
Adrien opens his mouth to retort, but Alya interrupts.  
  
“Alyabuginette?” she repeats incredulously. “That’s what you’re calling us?”  
  
“Yeah! It incorporates your name and Marinette’s two names in a way that doesn’t compromise her identity,” Nino says in a very Max tone of voice. “It’s the perfect ship name, dude!”  
  
Alya eyes Nino with suspicion. “How long have you spent thinking about this?”  
  
“Too long,” says Adrien flatly.  
  
Nino scoffs. “Dude, there is no such thing as too long when it comes to contemplating your best buds being in love with each other—”  
  
“Um!” Marinette says too loudly, fighting back the blush that threatens at Nino’s words. “We should probably go inside or we’ll be late!”  
  
The four walk into the school, Nino still explaining himself to an affectionately long-suffering Adrien. They stop at their lockers, then head to their first class. Nino and Adrien go in right away, but Marinette pulls at Alya’s sleeve to get her to hang back in the hallway.  
  
“Wait,” she says, lowering her voice as more of their classmates file in around them. “Should we tell them?”  
  
Alya blinks owlishly. “Tell who what?”  
  
“Tell Nino and Adrien that we’re not really…you know…”  
  
“Oh!” Comprehension dawns in her bright eyes. She looks into the classroom, then at Marinette. “I don’t know. I don’t want to burst Nino’s weird OTP bubble.”  
  
Marinette giggles. “He _is_ awfully excited.”  
  
“On the other hand, I don’t know if I want to be referred to as Alyabuginette for the rest of my life.”  
  
Rest of her life? How long does Alya think this will last? Will they keep this up through graduation? University? Engagement? _Marriage_?  
  
Marinette stops that train of thought before it can make her any more giddy than she already is.  
  
(She also makes a mental reminder to look up Martinique weddings—not, she tells herself firmly, because she actually thinks they’ll get married, but because she’s just…curious.)  
  
(Right.)  
  
She forces herself to giggle again. “Also true,” she agrees. “Alyabuginette is kind of a mouthful.”  
  
Both girls are quiet for a moment.  
  
“I guess we could tell them,” Alya says finally, slowly, and Marinette wonders if she’s imagining the reluctance in her voice. “They both know you’re Ladybug, so it’s not like they need the excuse. And it might be helpful to have someone in on our scheme.”  
  
Marinette quashes her disappointment and nods. “Okay. We’ll tell them during lunch.”  
  
“Girls, it’d be a shame for you to be late when you’re standing just outside the classroom,” Madame Ouali says as she walks past them.  
  
“Oh—sorry, Madame!” Marinette says, and the two walk in right as the bell rings.

.^.  
  
Telling Nino and Adrien during lunch is…slightly more difficult than the girls envisioned.  
  
Partly because they don’t want to disillusion Nino, but mostly because Nino Lahiffe is the most extra person in the universe (when it comes to his friends, anyway; Adrien and Alya learned pretty quickly that half yelling at one of the most famous designers in Europe for not giving his son a birthday party is only the tip of the emotional intensity that is the Lahiffe iceberg), and he has Adrien on his side, who is the second most extra person in the universe morphed with the most extra superhero in the universe, and, well—  
  
“What the _fuck_ ,” Alya says, her arms crossed, “is that.”  
  
Marinette can only stare. When Nino and Adrien had, with suspiciously innocent expressions, asked them if they were okay with a picnic lunch, she had expected it to be something vaguely over the top, but not…this.  
  
“Voilà!” Nino says, throwing out his arms Will Smith-meme-style. Adrien, standing on the other side of the picnic blanket, does the same pose, a fact that surely would have given his father and photographer multiple heart attacks. “Your romantic picnic awaits, ladies.”  
  
There’s a lot of pink (which Marinette actually doesn’t mind much), a lot of red (which isn’t that bad), and everything that can be heart shaped or heart patterned is just that. The picnic blanket is heart patterned, the plates are heart shaped, and heart confetti adorns the top of the picnic basket, around whose handles are tied two bright red heart shaped balloons.  
  
Marinette looks at Alya, but she’s still glaring at the display with her arms crossed, so she turns to Nino.  
  
“How did you put this together so quickly?” she asks. “You found out about us yesterday.”  
  
“Like I said,” Adrien says, “Nino’s been waiting for this for too long.”  
  
Alya gives Nino a look. “Do you mean to say you bought these corny-ass plates _just in case_ Marinette and I ever got together?”  
  
“Or if I ever get a significant other!” he says defensively. “Or if Adrien does! It’s not like I think about you two _all_ the time!”  
  
He valiantly ignores Adrien, who is not-so-subtly mouthing “yes he does” behind his hand (Alya sniggers), and adjusts his cap.  
  
“Anyway,” he says, “me and Adrien are gonna eat somewhere else so you two can have some alone time.”  
  
“Are you sure you’d rather not stay and take intrusive, candid photos of us being cute?” Alya asks. She uncrosses her arm to link it with Marinette’s and winks at her. “’Cause we’re real cute. Though it’s mostly just Marinette.”  
  
Marinette squeaks. “No! I mean, thanks, Alya, but you’re tute coo—you’re too cute—um—”  
  
Alya laughs. “See? The cutest! She’s so cute I’m not annoyed with you boys anymore for this dumb stunt.”  
  
Nino looks between them with the proud parent expression again and seems as if he wants to say something, but Adrien grabs his arm.  
  
“Come on,” he says. “Let’s go so they can eat and be cute in peace. We’ll see you girls in class!”  
  
They walk off towards the school. Marinette and Alya look at each other. Alya shrugs.  
  
“It’s free food,” she says. “We might as well.”  
  
Marinette nods, so they settle down on the blanket on either side of the basket. Tikki darts out from her purse and nestles on the blanket between Marinette’s knee and the basket so she’s hidden from view.  
  
“This was sweet of your friends to do, Marinette,” she says, beaming.  
  
Alya snorts. “It’s ridiculous,” she corrects, “but again, I’m not gonna complain about free food.” She brushes off the confetti and shifts the balloons to open the basket. “I hope they got pastries from your parents.”  
  
“They’d better have,” Marinette says, taking out the sandwiches closer to her side. Unsurprisingly, they are cut into hearts. “They’d be traitors if they didn’t.”  
  
“Ah-ha!” Alya spies the familiar packaging and draws it out: _Dupain-Cheng_ , stamped in gold lettering on a pink and white background. “Excellent!” She pulls out a chocolate croissant that has a heart drizzled on top, then wrinkles her nose and peeks into the bag. “Wow, Nino doesn’t kid around. All of these have hearts on them.”  
  
Tikki gives her tinkling laugh as Marinette hands her a heart-shaped cookie. “Plagg probably hated overhearing their plans. He’s a sweetie, but he doesn’t like cheesy romance at all.”  
  
“No, just cheese,” Alya and Marinette say in unison. Their eyes widen and both yell “jinx!” at the same time.  
  
“Tie!” Marinette says.  
  
“Tie goes to the girlfriend,” Alya counters.  
  
Marinette congratulates herself on keeping her voice steady. “Tie goes to the _cuter_ girlfriend.”  
  
“So it goes to you?”  
  
Marinette turns pink and busies herself with taking a bite of a sandwich. “Really, it shouldn’t have been hard to get hearts on all the pastries. Papa’s a big romantic so he loves when people ask for special decorations and stuff for their significant others. Nino probably didn’t have to do much convincing to get him to…to…”  
  
She trails off, eyes widening, and lowers her sandwich.  
  
“What?” Alya asks, looking up from the pastries with concern. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“I didn’t tell maman or papa about us, but what if Nino and Adrien did?” She drops her half-eaten sandwich heart onto her plate and waves her arms around in a panic. “What if they just walked in and were like, ‘Hey, Mr Dupain, we want to put on a surprise romantic picnic for your daughter and her g-girlfriend, so can you put hearts on the croissants even though you have no idea they’re even dating! Thanks!” She covers her face with her hands and groans. “Ugh, I don’t even want to _think_ about what they’re going to say when I get home.”  
  
Alya frowns. “I thought you said they were cool when you came out to them.”  
  
“They were! But they’ll want to know why I didn’t tell them we’re dating.”  
  
“Can’t you just tell them it’s a recent thing? Speaking of which,” Alya says, setting aside the pastry bag, “we need to agree on some details for our story. Like when we started dating, why we didn’t tell people right away, that sort of thing. It’ll keep us consistent and help you when you talk to your parents later.”  
  
Marinette lifts her head from her hands and nods. “Okay, good idea.” She picks up her sandwich again. “I guess we could say we officially got together…yesterday?”  
  
“Hm.” Alya leans back on her hands and stretches out her legs. “That seems the easiest ’cause there’s no need to make up anything before that, but…” She scrunches up her face. “I dunno, I think it’d look weird. Everyone thinks we were hardcore making out in a closet yesterday, which isn’t exactly something you do with someone you just got together with.”  
  
Marinette thinks of all the dreams she’s had that start with her and Alya declaring their undying love for each other and end with them making out in a closet, often within a span of five minutes, then turns as brightly red as the heart balloons on the picnic basket and coughs.  
  
“Good point,” she croaks. She takes a bite of her sandwich and pretends she can’t feel Tikki’s knowing eyes on her. “Should we say a week ago, then?”  
  
“I think that’s a good time span. And we kept it to ourselves, because…why? We aren’t embarrassed about it, our parents would approve, and our friends are weirdly, obsessively supportive. What could possibly be a reason to keep it secret?”  
  
“Romantic relationships are nobody’s business but the people involved,” Tikki pipes up. “You could just say that.”  
  
“Thanks, cutie!” Alya says, rubbing the top of her head. “Love when that ten-thousand-year-old wisdom comes in handy.”  
  
“And I’ll tell my parents I kept it from them because it’s new and we wanted to see if it would work out or not,” Marinette adds. “They’ll understand that, I think. I hope.”  
  
“Awesome.” Alya takes up the pastry bag again. “Now let’s eat. These croissants smell amazing.”

.^.  
  
It isn’t until the end of lunch that the girls remember what they had initially planned to do during their break.  
  
“We still haven’t told Nino and Adrien the truth,” Marinette says as they walk towards the school after clearing up their picnic.  
  
“Eh.” Alya shrugs. “They’ll be fine.”  
  
Marinette’s heart thumps. “Do you not want to tell them?”  
  
“Well, I was thinking—oh wait, here they come. Hey, boys!” She takes Marinette’s hand in her own as they come within sight of Nino and Adrien at the front of the school. “Thanks for the picnic. The decorations were dumb but the food was delicious. As is anything that comes from the Dupain-Cheng household.”  
  
Nino grins. “Does that include Marinette?”  
  
“Of course! Next time they should just make the pastries out of Mari. She’s sweeter than sugar.”  
  
“You sound vaguely like a cannibal,” Adrien comments as Marinette struggles with yet another impending blush.  
  
“And _you_ sound like someone who doesn’t understand romantic remarks,” Nino counters.  
  
“Hey! I am plenty romantic!”  
  
“Says the guy who flirts with fucking _puns_.”  
  
“Wordplay is a pun-derful way—”  
  
“Oh my god, Adrien—”  
  
“—to declare romantic intent for someone—”  
  
The boys walk back inside the school, still bickering. Alya and Marinette look at each other. Tikki pokes her head out of Marinette’s purse.  
  
“They sound like an old married couple,” she says, giggling.  
  
“Maybe they’ll start dating too,” Alya says.  
  
“That would be really cute,” Marinette agrees. “They can be the Ninadrinoir to our Alyabuginette.”  
  
“Oh God, don’t even say that,” Alya groans, as Tikki giggles again. “Come on, girl, we don’t want to be late.”  
  
She tugs on Marinette’s hand to get her to come inside, and despite the fact that no one is around to see them and there’s no reason to keep up the charade, she doesn’t let go until they are back inside the classroom.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been 84 years but here's another chapter, finally

**Bisexual Babe <3:**  
hey how did talking to ur parents go  
they werent mad right

 **Marinette:**  
no they were a lil disappointed I didn’t tell them right away but they understood why we kept it quiet for a bit  
also  
maman gave me the talk again which was So Much Fun

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
fjkajkdla  
rip  
sorry babe

 **Marinette:**  
tbh it was mostly just awkward cause maman’s info is all based on m/f relationships and she was trying to adjust it to make sense for two girls but it was just. Uncomfortable and Bewildering  
like obv she supports me but it’s not like she has a ton of insight on how girls have sex

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
thats the advantage of having a bi manman and a lesbian aunt  
also remember manman says shes cool with answering any questions u have if ur mom cant answer them  
Do Not just trust the internet for this kind of info its mostly gross straight white boy fantasy

 **Marinette:**  
yeah if I ever have any specific questions I’ll ask your maman, thanks again  
did you tell your parents  
  
**Bisexual Babe <3:**  
yeah papa cried

 **Marinette:**  
WHAT

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
lmao yeah just a little bit. I think he and nino are competing for our #1 shipper  
he and manman are already planning our wedding  
manman says the foods gonna be fantastic. martinique-chinese-french fusion. she says she’ll do the main dishes and ur parents can do the desserts, pastries, etc

 **Marinette:**  
omg

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
u’ll make ur own dress ofc  
my gran-mè will give me her wedding clothes  
its perfect  
so will u marry me mari

 **Marinette:**  
isn’t this kind of sudden

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
no such thing as too soon when it comes to tru love, babe  
u r my soulmate why should we wait

 **Marinette:**  
is this even legal? we’re only seventeen

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
who cares about the law  
this is TRUE LOVE

 **Marinette:**  
I care about the law  
I don’t want to get arrested on my wedding day

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
um excuse u I think u mean OUR wedding day  
we will survive jail together  
i’ll do an exposé on how prisoners of color are treated by the guards  
u’ll get the prisoners on our side with your great baking skills and then make cool new prison outfits and we’ll take down the establishment in style from the inside  
oh and adrien and nino can be our contacts on the outside and help us get info to the public  
and then chat noir can break us out with cataclysm  
and then u’ll transform and be like “PSYCH BITCHES IM LADYBUG AND IM SUPERHERO-ARRESTING ALL U GUARDS FOR BEIN RACIST DIRTBAGS”  
et voilà! we’ll rid the prisons of prejudiced guards

 **Marinette:**  
Wow How Can I Say No

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
so u’ll marry me?

 **Marinette:**  
sure why not

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
!!!!!!! ur the best  
i’ll go tell papa so he can cry some more

 **Marinette:**  
hey wait  
you never told me why you don’t want to tell nino and adrien that we’re not really dating

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
oh rite  
well  
idk i thought about it and i realized it might be easier the less people know  
and nino’s like…super excited lmao so maybe we can just wait to tell them? after a couple of weeks or something so ninos had time to gush

 **Marinette:**  
yeah okay

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
i really gotta go it’s my turn to do dishes and manman is givin me the stink eye  
later babe, love you

.^.

“Nino’s planning another picnic, milady,” Chat Noir says as Ladybug lands on the rooftop next to him. “It involves duckling choreography.”  
  
Ladybug rolls her eyes as she stretches out her legs in front of her. Friday night patrols are her favorite; she and Chat Noir split up the city, starting at opposite ends and working their way towards the roof of an Indian restaurant near the center. Splitting the distance means they finish patrol more quickly, which allows them to sit and talk for a while. She knows it shouldn’t feel any different than talking to Adrien during the day, but there is something about the suits, and the rooftop, and the lingering adrenaline of patrol, and the sparkling lights of the city before them, that makes these conversations different.  
  
“Hello to you too, chaton,” she says dryly, leaning forward a little in an effort to crack her back. “I stopped two muggings and helped a lost tourist find his hotel.”  
  
“Did you not hear me?” he asks, turning his head to look at her and pulling up a leg to rest his elbow on his knee. “ _Duckling choreography_.”  
  
Ladybug continues to ignore him. “I also found a woman’s wallet but there wasn’t anything in it with her address so I dropped it off at the police station.” She frowns. “Do you think that was a good idea? Maybe I should have just checked if she has a Facebook and messaged her or something.”  
  
“How would you even do that?” Chat Noir asks. “We don’t have a Facebook for our superhero-selves.” His face lights up. “Should I make one?”  
  
“One, I would message her from my civilian account and pretend Marinette found it, not Ladybug. Two, No. You already have to manage Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, and Instagram for Plastic Model Adrien Agreste, Dorky Teenage Boy Adrien Agreste, and Chat Noir. Plus the Chat Noir Tumblr. Do you really need a Chat Noir Facebook?”  
  
“I only manage Dorky Teenage Boy Adrien Agreste’s and Chat Noir’s accounts,” he reminds her. “Nathalie runs everything else. I could totally handle a Chat Noir Facebook too.”  
  
“Sure,” Ladybug concedes, shrugging, “if you never want to sleep.”  
  
“I already never sleep.”  
  
“Fair point.” She arches her back, grimacing. “Ugh, why won’t my back pop?”  
  
“Do you want me to punch it?”  
  
“No thanks,” she says, rolling her shoulders. “Your punches are too weak to be effective.”  
  
He pouts. “Hey!”  
  
She cackles, twisting side to side in another effort to crack her back. “Seriously, my back is sore like, all the time. I should get a massage.”  
  
“Don’t say that in front of Nino,” Chat Noir says, “or he’ll schedule a couples massage for you and Alya.”  
  
“That’d be nice, actually,” Ladybug says, a little absently.  
  
“Or,” Chat Noir goes on, “he’d somehow get Alya to give the massage to you.”  
  
“That’d be—” Ladybug cuts herself off, flushing as brightly as her suit. She clears her throat and shoves the thought of warm skin and big hands and _stretching_ out of her head. “That’d be nice, too.”  
  
Chat Noir gives her a shrewd look.  
  
“Something’s up,” he says after a moment. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“Nothing,” she says automatically.  
  
His eyes narrow. “You squeaked. A squeaky Ladybug is an unhappy Ladybug.”  
  
“I did not _squeak_ ,” she says, with as much dignity as she can muster when her face is still the color of a tomato. “I just have a naturally high voice.”  
  
“This,” he says, the word pitched comically high, “is a high voice. And _this_ ,” he says, the word less an actual word and more a sound that might have been a bad impression of a mouse, or maybe a balloon slowly losing its helium, “is squeaking. You squeaked.”  
  
“Did not.”  
  
“Did too.”  
  
“Did not.”  
  
“Did too.”  
  
“Did _not_.”  
  
They glare at each other for a long moment. Chat Noir is frowning, the space between his eyebrows pinched in that way it is when Nino is being especially annoying. Ladybug is offended to be at Nino levels of annoying, so she sighs.  
  
“Fine,” she says huffily. “I squeaked.”  
  
“Ha!” He points at her like a detective in a bad film noir. “Out with it, milady. What’s wrong?”  
  
“I—” She stops, trying to think past the guilt churning in her gut. Alya wanted to keep the falsehood between them. Was it wrong to tell Chat? But her argument had been that it would be easier, not that there was some Big Important Emotional reason behind it, and Chat wouldn’t tell anyone, not unless Ladybug gave him the all-clear. And maybe it would be helpful to have someone’s eye to catch during the day, when Tikki was tucked away in her purse and Nino was organizing romantic duckling choreography and Alya’s arm was brushing against hers in class.  
  
Ladybug swallows. She shifts to sit cross-legged.  
  
“Me and Alya aren’t actually dating,” she says quickly, the words tumbling out together in a rush of air. “We were in that closet because I didn’t have cookies for Tikki and she was helping me feed her. We couldn’t think of a non-superhero-related excuse for us to be in there so when Chloé assumed we were, you know, making out, we just…went with it.”  
  
She wants to look at Chat Noir but for some reason she’s afraid to, so she looks down at her hands instead, which she clasps in her lap.  
  
“It wouldn’t be a big deal—it _shouldn’t_ be a big deal—but I—I’ve had a crush on her since forever and—” She swallows again, twists her fingers together. “And it’s just hard, that’s all. ’Cause it’s not real for her but it is for me and I have to deal with knowing that even while her parents congratulate us and Rose and Juleka ask us to double date and Nino organizes cheesy picnics for us.”  
  
“And duckling choreography,” Chat Noir reminds her.  
  
She sort of chuckles, a breathy half sigh. “Yeah. And duckling choreography.”  
  
Chat Noir is quiet for a moment. Ladybug sneaks a glance at him.  
  
“Well?” she prompts, when he still doesn’t say anything.  
  
He blinks. “Well, what?”  
  
“ _Well_ , do you have anything to say?” Ladybug asks impatiently. “Questions, comments, suggestions, advice?”  
  
“I mean,” he says, shrugging, “I kind of already knew you liked Alya, so that’s not new. And I had a feeling something was off about the dating thing. If you and Alya were actually dating the entire city would know about it. Alya would have broadcasted the news on every major network in the city. The Ladyblog would turn into the ‘cute photos of my girlfriend’ blog. She’d ask Hawkmoth to akumatize her again so she could use her Lady Wifi powers to force the news into everyone’s homes.”  
  
Ladybug giggles in spite of herself. “Don’t even joke about that.”  
  
He grins, a flash of white in the dark. “You know she would.”  
  
She stretches out her legs again, leaning back on her hands. “Yeah,” she sighs, “she would. She’d make an awesome girlfriend.”  
  
There’s another silence.  
  
“I think,” Chat Noir says finally, “that it’ll be fine. It’s useful to have this as a cover. And I know your feelings are hard to deal with but who knows? Maybe it’ll bring you two together.”  
  
Ladybug gives him a withering look. “Are you really saying that if Alya pretends to be my girlfriend long enough she’ll eventually _actually_ want to be my girlfriend?”  
  
Chat Noir shrugs again. “Stranger things have happened. We’re two teenagers who fight an evil, pun-loving moth man in a bug outfit and a sexy cat costume. Our weapons are a yoyo and a stick, and the things that give us our powers look like sentient pin cushions who eat too many cookies and too much stinky cheese. I think you can morph fake dating a girl into really dating her.”  
  
Ladybug blinks.  
  
“You know,” she says, feeling marginally more cheerful, “when you put it that way, it doesn’t look so hard.”  
  
Chat Noir beams. He holds out his fist and Ladybug bumps it.  
  
“Hey,” she says after a moment, “what the heck is duckling choreography, anyway?”  
  
Chat Noir groans. “Nino spent two hours at the park by my house trying to train the ducklings to waddle in the formation of a heart. I told him it’s a dumb idea but he said that if birds can fly in V formation to migrate, they can form a heart.”  
  
“But—” Ladybug’s brow crinkles. “Baby birds waddling are not the same thing as adult birds flying.”  
  
“I told him that,” Chat Noir says, rolling his eyes. “He told me I have no imagination and that if it were up to me romance would be dead. To which I responded that I am _purr_ -fectly romantic—”  
  
“Oh my god, Chat—”  
  
“—and that his _quack_ romantic methods are the problem, not me—”  
  
“Oh my _god_ , Chat—”  
  
“and that if he didn’t stop trying to train the stupid ducklings I’m not gonna be his plus one to that DJ thing next weekend. He gave up on the ducklings after that cause he said he doesn’t want me to ditch him.” He shakes his head, the smile on his face so fond Ladybug feels like she isn’t meant to see it. “As if I’d actually not go with him. What an idiot.”  
  
This time it’s Ladybug’s turn to give him a shrewd look.  
  
“What?”  
  
“You _like_ him,” she sings.  
  
“What?” Chat Noir scowls, though his face is slowly staining pink. “No I don’t!”  
  
“Yes you do.”  
  
“No I don’t!” Abruptly he gets to his feet, his scowl so severe it looks almost painful. “Shut up!”  
  
Ladybug gasps, putting a hand to her heart. “Is that any way to treat Paris’s superhero, chaton?” she says dramatically. “I am your _lady_ , how could you speak to me like this—though I suppose I can’t be your lady anymore, not when Nino has such a claim on your heart—”  
  
“I _do not_ like Nino,” Chat Noir says emphatically, crossing his arms and glaring down at her. “He’s just my friend. My stupid dumb friend who hates puns and thinks he can train ducklings and has very pretty eyes and really nice shoulders.” His eyes widen and he drops his arms to his sides. “Holy shit.”  
  
Ladybug cackles.

.^.

 **Marinette:**  
adrien has a crush on nino

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
is this supposed to be news

 **Marinette:**  
lmao  
I just got confirmation tho  
adrien likes his ~pretty eyes~ and his ~nice shoulders~

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
fjlajdka what a loser

 **Marinette:**  
????? how is he a loser

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
eyes?? shoulders?? is he 12

 **Marinette:**  
keep it PG alya

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
is that any way to talk about a crush  
“mm luv their eyes and their shoulders”  
“i just wanna hold their hand and sit on a park bench with them like old ppl”

 **Marinette:**  
how would you talk about your crush then if you’re such an expert  
also adrien is bi ace remember  
pls be more understanding of his preferences

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
oh shit rite I take it all back sorry mari I genuinely forgot  
sorry sorry  
really

 **Marinette:**  
you’re fine he only told us about the ace part last month  
also you’re avoiding the question

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
what, how i think about my crush

 **Marinette:**  
yeah

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
hardcore makin out my friend  
all day every day

 **Marinette:**  
didn’t you say we had to back-date our fake relationship because it’d be weird to be making out with someone you’d just gotten together with?

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
well  
yes  
but crush fantasies are fantasies for a reason  
no need for realistic time lapses or nervousness or delays cause ur bad at kissing  
ur an instant expert in ur own fantasies  
i am a master of making out  
a connoisseur of kissing  
a samurai of smooching

 **Marinette:**  
a  
samurai  
of smooching

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
shut up

 **Marinette:**  
wow all my friends are so rude to me today, they all keep telling me to shut up  
I’m dumping everyone for nino  
Friendship Ended With Alya And Adrien, Now Nino Is My Best Friend

 **Bisexual Babe <3:**  
1\. we are not friends we are fake girlfriends  
2\. have fun buying out every heart shaped item in existence with ur new bff nino

 **Marinette:**  
I will have /plenty/ of fun doing just that, thank you very much  
which reminds me  
during patrol adrien said nino is trying to incorporate duckling choreography in his next romantic gesture for us

 **Bisexual Babe <3**:  
……  
what the fuck

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might write a separate one-shot about Nino trying to train the ducks, if you all think that's something you all want to see let me know
> 
> ML tumblr: laallomri, feel free to come bother me about whatever


End file.
